


A Day of Revelations

by StrictlyFromCorn (orphan_account)



Series: Dancing in the Dark [5]
Category: 20th Century CE RPF, American Actor RPF, Astaire/Rogers RPF, Fred Astaire/Ginger Rogers Movies
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 05:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1846207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/StrictlyFromCorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Early 1935, during rehearsals for Roberta. Ginger comes in late, much to Fred's and Hermes' surprise, and she's immensely upset about something. She won't tell Fred what, but after he stops rehearsals and takes her out to make her feel better, she comes to a big realization about him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Day of Revelations

**Author's Note:**

> Yes! Finally! Something big is going to happen! :D I hope you guys like it, and I promise I'll update a LOT more! :D

                He could scarcely believe the fact that his dancing partner was late to rehearsals. Of all the things in the world, Fred knew that he could count on Ginger to be there on time – and her absence was starting to worry him. He’d called her house three times, but no one was picking up. Presumably, Lew had left for work and so had she, but it didn’t explain why she wasn’t at the studio. The traffic situation was all right, and Fred had considered going down to her house to see if all was well, but Hermes suggested that he wait till lunchtime, at least, so that it wouldn’t seem like he was being overbearing.

                “It’s already ten. The wait is killing me. I can’t—I’ve gotta go to her house now.” Fred suddenly jumped out of his seat as he saw the clock strike ten. It was foolish of him to get stressed out and waste the entire morning just pacing about and strain himself emotionally when he could have been working on his solo dance with Hermes, but Fred simply couldn’t help himself. Caring about Ginger had become such an integral part of him that it was so hard not to act on his impulses and rush to wherever she was, to see if she was hurt, or needed anything… or for no reason at all than to just be at her side.

                “Hold your horses, will you, Fred?” Hermes let out a loud sigh at his friend’s knee-jerk reaction to the time. Even though he was younger than Fred, he always found himself having to keep him in line, and having to remind him to be sensible. Honestly, when Ginger was involved, it seemed as if Fred always left behind all his common sense and reasoning skills, and it was invariably up to the choreographer to make sure that he didn’t do anything stupid. For instance, rush to Ginger’s house so soon. After all – maybe all she’d done was oversleep.

                “Yes, but—“ The dancer was cut off when the door was opened and Ginger stepped in, looking visibly upset. Her makeup had been hastily re-done, as if to hide the fact that she had been crying, but it fooled no one. “Ginge! What’s… are you all right?” Fred had to prevent himself from running to her side and giving her a tight embrace – like Hermes said, he had to keep self-control in mind.

                “I’m fine, Fred. I’m sorry for being late. It won’t happen again.” Her voice was shaky and breathless, a clear indication that she was, in fact, _not_ all right. Quietly, the dancer placed her purse on the nearby table and took off her jacket. Fred rushed to assist her in the latter endeavor, but as soon as he was done, he let his hands fall heavily to his sides, watching her in infinite concern. “I suppose we should try to make up for lost time in… rehearsals, huh?” Ginger’s blue gaze didn’t meet her dancing partner’s as she attempted to step past him.

                “Ginger, what’s the matter?” His hazel gaze was fixed intently upon her and he brought his hands to her shoulders, stopping her in her tracks. She still didn’t look into Fred’s eyes, obviously uncomfortable with facing whatever it was that was troubling her.

                “Nothing. Nothing at all. I mean, it’s all just inconsequential, really. Believe me, Freddie.” Ginger made a half-hearted attempt to take his large hands off her shoulders, before just sighing loudly. “Can we just get on with rehearsals?”

                “Uh, sure.” Hermes cut off another one of Fred’s protests as he got up from his seat, making his way to the record player. “So, I don’t know how conventional this is, but Jerome sent us the recording of the Broadway orchestra playing “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” so that you and Fred can rehearse with it. Uh, you do remember all the dance steps that I taught you last week, right?” The choreographer could tell that his friend didn’t appreciate the intrusion, given his expression and the way he reluctantly let go of Ginger but he would have lots of time to explain later. Hermes made a mental note to give Fred a quick lesson in being tactful – especially in those kinds of situations.

                “Yes, I remember.” Ginger’s shoulders rose and fell as she took a deep breath and made a valiant attempt to get ahold of herself. The raised voices. The slamming of doors. Lew’s shoe flying across the room. She couldn’t think of that now. She couldn’t let Fred know about their argument. She didn’t want to burden her dancing partner with her personal problems; she was determined to fix her marriage on her own. But the prospect of just burying her face against Fred’s strong shoulder and pouring out all her problems was tempting – very tempting.

                “Ginge?” Fred’s voice made her raise her head. Apparently, she had been staring at the hardwood floor, lost in her own scattered thoughts. “Ready?” His tone was warm and inviting, as always, and such a contrast to the harsh shouting that still rang in her ears.

                “Yeah.” Ginger forced a smile at him, only briefly meeting his gaze, which shone plainly with care for her state of mind. “Whenever you’re ready, Hermes.” She nodded at the choreographer, who started the record for the two of them. If she had been in a clearer frame of mind, she would have said something about how beautiful Fred’s choreography was – how it simply oozed romance and elegance and charm all at the same time, and how creative the man behind it was, but instead, Ginger was completely quiet.

                _I know what’s bothering you isn’t something minor. Believe me, I know._ Fred’s gaze seemed to convey that message as he took his dancing partner by the arm, linking the two of them together more tightly than they needed to be. _Tell me, Ginge, please tell me…_ He wanted her to trust him enough to confide in him her problems – because he simply couldn’t bear to see her upset like that.

                Again, Ginger didn’t meet his eyes. They started the familiar dance routine, with Fred brushing his hand on top of hers repeatedly, on purpose. For some reason, she found the gesture incredibly comforting, and the dancer felt inclined to steal a quick glance at her partner. The same broad grin greeted her; charming, sincere, and winsome. When he released Ginger momentarily, she could’ve sworn that he was concentrating less on the dance and more on her.

                It felt good to know that someone cared about her so much. But at the same time, the argument kept coming back to mind, having taken its’ toll on her both emotionally and physically – she was nowhere near her normal form when it came to dancing. “Careful.” The next thing that Ginger was aware of was Fred whispering that one word to her, and the fact that his right hand was on her left shoulder, steadying her.

                Neither of them said anything about the amateur mistake that she had just made; instead, they simply continued to dance. The concern in his gaze grew more evident as he noticed the fact that Ginger was unusually stiff and obviously not in the mood to rehearse, and he couldn’t blame her, either. Almost on cue, she stole another glance at Fred – her face a picture of conflicting emotions and obvious pain. They spun around in unison, with his big hand wrapped around her slender waist, and her petite hand gripping onto his shoulder, a picture of near-perfection. Ginger found comfort in holding onto her dancing partner tightly, too – a childish part of her believed that if she held on close enough, all her problems would vanish and she would just melt against Fred. Just like in those fairytales.

                The backbend was next, but it quickly became clear to the two dancers that Ginger wasn’t going to be able to bend all the way. Still, nobody spoke up about it. As she rose from the half-hearted movement, the dancer suddenly found herself fighting back tears. She didn’t know why – all of a sudden, the thought that she was a disappointment to Fred had manifested itself in her mind. They had been working so hard on that dance, and Ginger knew that it always meant the world to her partner to achieve perfection, and here she was, dancing like a total disgrace.

                But when she saw the smile and the obvious affection on Fred’s face, the mounting feelings within her suddenly vanished. It occurred to her that he didn’t _care_ that she was dancing so horribly; he understood that there was something wrong and his primary concern was with her well-being. Ginger could’ve cried again – because it meant a lot for her, at that moment, to have someone’s solid support like that. Especially Fred’s; a man whom she adored with all her heart and soul.

                She felt his hand gently cradle her head out of the blue, and in response, she rested her head against his shoulder. That dance move hadn’t been planned, but it felt like someone had taken a load off of Ginger’s heart. Unintentionally, a tear ran down her cheek, and before she knew it, her whole body was racked with sobs.

                “Ginger?” Fred stopped the dance at once and turned to his dancing partner, who was whimpering and shivering as she threw both her arms around him without a second thought. “Oh—don’t cry, Ginge, don’t… what’s the matter? What’s the matter? It’s all right—I’m here…” He murmured softly, trying to calm her torrents of sniffles and uneven and rapid breathing. “Tell me, what’s wrong?”

                “Fred—Fred, I’m so sorry, I—“ Ginger grabbed at the fabric of his shirt, wanting to apologize for making it all wet. She felt inclined to say sorry for almost everything she had done that day, but the tight feeling in her chest and her tears didn’t allow her to articulate anything else.

                “Stop being sorry and tell me what happened.” Fred started to stroke her blonde hair in an attempt to make her feel better. He recalled that she particularly enjoyed it during their time together in New York, and his other hand was wrapped around her back, pulling Ginger closer to himself in a gesture of comfort.

                “I... I had an argument with someone. Someone close.” Her voice came out as a hoarse whisper, feeling her eyes start to sting because of the tears. “Oh, Fred, I just…” She leaned her head against his shoulder again, wanting the same feeling as before. “I want to- to… fix things. But I don’t know how. It’s all… it’s so _complicated_.”

                “Ginge, I’d like to tell you something.” Fred’s rhythmic strokes had started to have a calming effect on Ginger, whose heavy breathing and forceful sobs had started to subside. He said nothing as he brought one hand to wipe away her tears, feeling the moisture of them against her face. “First of all, nothing is going to get solved by standing here and crying and not being able to speak a proper word. We’ve got to sit down and talk it out in a calm manner, hmm? And second of all, a girl as wonderful as you shouldn’t cry.”

                “Fred—oh, Fred, I…” Ginger’s face was red from all the crying, and she allowed Fred to guide her to the chair that he had been sitting in earlier. Hermes stopped the record and looked over at the two in concern, but made no attempt to step in-between them or say anything. “It’s such a mess. Everything’s a mess right now.”

                “One at a time, Ginger, one at a time.” Fred continued to murmur in that soothing voice of his, taking out his pocket handkerchief and wiping away the rest of Ginger’s tears. “Now, tell me everything. Slowly. From the beginning.”

                “Oh… it doesn’t… it doesn’t matter any more. I don’t want to be a bother to you.” Now that she had regained some composure, she had evidently started to think better of letting Fred know about everything, although it was too late, in a sense. He already knew something was off – and he wouldn’t stop thinking about it or worrying himself over her, and that was the exact opposite of what Ginger wanted.

                “You’re not being a bother.” He insisted sincerely, taking both of her hands in his.

                “I can’t tell you. I’m sorry. I can’t.” Ginger hoped that Fred wouldn’t take it the wrong way – she just wanted to keep her maritial problems to herself and strive to fix it on her own, as much as she appreciated Fred’s deep concern. If she had a few days just to figure out things, she was sure that there would be a solution.

                “Hmm…” Fred passed his tongue over his lips, sensing that Ginger wasn’t going to budge on the topic. “All right, then, the least I can do is make you feel better.” In his heart, he had the understanding that he wouldn’t force his dancing partner to say anything that she didn’t want to – because he thought that true love and affection couldn’t be based on such things. And the next best thing Fred could do was to cheer her up, because he hated seeing her that way.

                “You don’t have to. I… I’m sorry for making a scene. Let’s get on with rehearsals.” Ginger rose from the seat, making a renewed attempt at pulling herself together. She was aware that Hermes had witnessed the whole breakdown, but a small part of her didn’t mind, since he was a really good friend, too.

                “What if I _want_ to?” Fred insisted, stepping in front of Ginger again. That was one thing he _wasn’t_ going to give up on, though, because he was convinced it would do her good by stopping rehearsals for the day. “You know what we’ll do, Ginge? I’ll take you to the coffee shop down the street – the one that just opened. We’ll have some donuts, some coffee… and you can take it easy. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” He brought her hands against his chest, eyes shining with heartfelt affection.

                It was hard to refuse anything in the face of a display of such sincerity, and it was no surprise that Ginger found herself nodding as the corners of her mouth finally started to turn up because of Fred’s concern and sweetness. “Thanks, Freddie. Thanks, really, it means a lot.”

* * *

 

                “I hadn’t the slightest idea that you liked chocolate donuts. For some reason, I thought you’d like sugar ones better.” Ginger commented with a shy smile as she observed Fred eat his donut slowly and carefully – like the proper gentleman he was. She wasn’t above dunking her own donuts into her coffee, just like she had seen Clark Gable do the year before.

                “What gave you that impression?” Fred asked with a slight laugh as he took another bite of the delicious snack. “I love donuts, especially those with chocolate and sprinkles. Sugar donuts are kinda… plain, don’t you think?” He was doing his best to make the atmosphere light-hearted, and it appeared to be working, since Ginger was acting like her usual bubbly self once again. Even then, though, the dancer hoped with all his heart that she would still tell him what had caused her to be so upset – because he wanted to do his best to help her out.

                “Maybe because you’re just awfully sweet.” Another smile passed over her face at the bashful grin Fred produced in response to that statement. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me, Fred.” It had, for some reason, escaped Ginger’s notice that he was one of the most caring people she had ever met. Every time there was a problem on-set, Fred was there at once to defend her. He was always so attentive to her needs – and up till that point, Ginger had been taking it somewhat for granted. It just wouldn’t do to go on like that any longer. But one thought blew her mind – _why_ did he care so much?

                “Sweet? Well, I—“ He took a sip from his coffee cup to hide his coy expression. “Of course, Ginge. Any time. I’m always here – no matter what. If you need someone to listen to you… about anything, really, I’ll be here. I don’t care if you think it’s the most trivial thing in the world; if you need to get it off your chest, talk to me. And even if you don’t want to say anything, like today, you can count on me to brighten things up, all right?” Fred gave in and started to dunk his donut, too – his attention was focused on the coffee and not on Ginger’s expression, which had suddenly changed.

                “Fred – you… you _care_.” Her tone of voice made him look up all of a sudden. It was trembling with emotion and the big realization that she had just come to. “You care so much for me.”

                “I… well, I… of course I care, I just—you’re my dancing partner, of course I… I have to care.” His hazel eyes widened and he suddenly found himself extremely shy with the point that Ginger was trying to make. “Lots of other people, care, too, you know. Hermes c-cares… and… well, lots of others care.” Fred couldn’t explain why he was stammering and at a loss of words. After all, it was just a simple statement, and he didn’t know why it had provoked such an intense reaction in him. But at the same time, he knew that she wasn’t referring to _that_ kind of care. It was more than that – it was the devotion that he had shown because of his romantic feelings towards Ginger.

                “Hermes cares, but not in the way you do. You care in the way that no one else does.” She rose from her seat in the booth, blinking rapidly as she made her way over to Fred’s side. The coffee shop was rather crowded, but she didn’t care – at that moment, all she cared about was a proper answer from Fred. Her mind was scrambling to put the jumbled puzzle pieces together. The way Fred had _always_ talked about Lew with a polite and quiet detachment, even though he claimed to be good friends with her husband – the way he _never_ talked about her romantic life or his, which was virtually nonexistent. Ginger hadn’t considered why Fred didn’t have a girlfriend; after all, he was one of America’s most successful and charming movie stars, and there was never any lack of admirers for him at the premiere parties. And most telling of all, the _looks_ that Fred always exchanged with her during romantic dances. She suddenly remembered the eagerness with which he had approached her at the end of the “Night and Day” dance, which she had tried so much to forget, along with her own conflicted emotions at that time. Ginger had spent so much time convincing herself that she didn’t “like” Fred in the same way as she did in New York – because she was married, but… was it at all possible that, all along, _he_ had loved _her_?

                “I… That doesn’t—“ Fred rose from his seat, too, gripping the edge of the table to conceal the fact that his hands were shaking. She had realized it. She had honestly and truly realized it this time. His impulse to deny his feelings quickly melted away, though, as he stood staring at Ginger wordlessly.

                “You care for me in the way Lew does. In a… a romantic way. Fred, do you love me?” The question was so simple, and yet, it held so much meaning for both of them. He was so surprised that he could hardly move or think, like a deer in headlights. “ _Fred_.” Ginger whispering his name seemed to bring him back to reality, though, as she tugged on his coat lapels.

                “I—I… yes, I… oh, God knows, Ginge, I _love_ you. I love you so much. I only know I love you and I’m not capable of handling anything else.” He wrapped his arms around her in the way he had longed for over the course of two long years – in an amorous way. “I love you.” Fred kept on repeating as he whispered it in Ginger’s ear, while she returned the tight embrace. “I’ve felt this way since I first came here—but… but Lew…” The mention of Ginger’s husband seemed to shatter the momentary euphoria that she felt upon discovering Fred’s feelings for her.

                “Lew. Oh, gosh, Lew.” She murmured, suddenly breaking the hug and taking a step backwards. “He was the reason why I was crying this morning, Fred.” Ginger instantly felt bad for hugging Fred that way – because all said and done, she was still married, and one quarrel didn’t discount that fact.

                “Why? You had a disagreement?” He asked softly, and the pain in his voice took her aback; it was almost as if _he_ had been in an argument with his spouse instead. She could see it now, clear as day – Fred loved her _so much_. Ginger nodded without a word, and when he put his arms around her again, she didn’t protest. “Did he _hit_ you?” The question was whispered, too, as he placed one hand on her cheek and ran his thumb over her soft skin.

                “No, no, no, nothing of that sort.” Ginger shook her head rapidly, glad that her marriage hadn’t broken up to that extent. “It was just an argument—he threw his shoe across the room because he was mad, and I… I threw things, too, oh, we were both horrible last night. And this morning, too, he wouldn’t talk to me, and I guess it’s all my fault—“

                “Shh. Nothing’s your fault. And don’t you apologize.” Fred cut her off, knowing better than to let Ginger blame herself for the argument. Both parties were always guilty, and it wasn’t fair to let her feel bad all by herself. His hazel gaze wandered to her lips, which were _so_ close, and part of him wanted to just lean in and press his own lips against hers. “I guess you love Lew, then. Quarrels are just part of a healthy relationship.”

                “That’s the thing, Fred. I’m not sure—I’m not… when you looked at me that way when we did “Night and Day”, I reacted to it, and I spent days afterwards trying to bury it, but, oh gosh, you love me, and I…” Ginger paused to swallow her rising tears once again. Oh, she never got violently emotional like that, but the day had been full of stunning revelations. “Maybe I married the wrong guy. You’ve been here for two years, and I don’t know—it’s all such a mess. But I… do feel something for you, Fred. I’ve never thought about it till now, but oh God…” Ginger could feel his whole body shaking with the feelings he had, too, and before she knew it, her light blue gaze was directly on his lips, too.

                “We don’t need to think about it all at once. We don’t.” Fred was so close to her face that he could see his breath stirring her messy hair, and he inhaled deeply, considering what would happen if he kissed Ginger then. Perhaps he could afford to be selfish and make what he had been dreaming of for two years come true. He had regretted deeply not telling her about his feelings before news of Ginger’s engagement broke, and if he threw away this chance he would probably kick himself for the rest of his life. Before Fred had the chance to change his own mind, he leaned forward and allowed their lips to meet.

                Amidst the hustle and bustle of the coffee shop, nobody noticed or recognized them – the grind of daily life went on for most people, but for Fred and Ginger, that gesture was potentially life-changing. He brought his hand to her arm and started to squeeze it as he had always done in New York; it was something she found strangely sensual, and at the same time, both her hands were wrapped around Fred’s neck, pulling and tugging at his necktie or his shirt collar or the lapels, as she completely allowed herself to enjoy the kiss.

                He could’ve sworn a tear had rolled down his cheek because of how gratifying that one moment was, but he wasn’t concerned about Ginger seeing him cry. He was shaking with so much excitement and his heart was racing, like one of those horses he liked so often to bet on. _Faster, faster, faster…_ the thudding seemed to go on.

                Fred remembered each and every kiss in New York, but all of a sudden, those didn’t matter. They weren’t important any longer. The only thing that he cared about was that moment of intimacy with Ginger. It was everything to him – it filled up his whole world, and as they both stood there, grasping at each other, they were both, temporarily, immeasurably happy.


End file.
